


...One More Time

by TrixieLemon



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Frottage, Kinda, M/M, Masochism, Semi-Public Sex, So much angst, Wall Sex, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrixieLemon/pseuds/TrixieLemon
Summary: "It'll hurt!""I'm aware."Jack finds Mark backstage after the Thankmas stream and they fall into an old routine.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 75





	...One More Time

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously nothing here is real, it's 100% just me daydreaming.

He wasn't sure why he stuck around. To offer his congratulations, of course - target not just met, but _smashed_ \- but he could do that any time. Jack wasn't leaving L.A. for a few days yet, and they had plans to work together before he went home. Plans made with a mile wide smile over Skype. God, past him was a moron.

Present him was standing in a loose drift of fake snow, sounds of celebration faint to his left, out in the lights of the main studio space. He'd ducked out as Jack was closing the stream with shocked delight in his eyes, while Amy and Evelien grinned at each other and that was… something he wasn't going to think about right now.

He should be out there with them. He should have left already. He should have done all sorts of things, but he'd caught Jack's eye as he left the set and he'd known he'd do none of them.

He shrunk further into a dark corner and smacked the wall hard. "Shit!"

Mark's eyes widened in surprise as his back hit the wall, Jack's hands tight on his shoulders. He'd not heard him come in over the noise in his own head.

"You need to get a grip on your fuckin' temper."

He felt the sneer twist his face as he spoke. "Or what?"

The breath was suddenly knocked out of him by the weight against his chest. When had Jack got so strong?

"I don't do this shit anymore, Seán." 

Jack snorted. "You say that every time and we still end up here."

"Don't." It was a low growl.

"What, after you got me to fucking _slap_ you again on the _fuckin' livestream_?" His lips twisted and Mark pressed himself back into the wall without realising what he was doing. "After everything you and Ethan have been doing in your freaky fuckin' _side-project_? Everyone's seeing the truth of you now, y'know."

Mark's eyes flashed behind his glasses. "Is this jealousy, Seán?" There was a twisting lilt in his voice and Jack bared his teeth, pushing harder.

"Don't turn this back on me, when you're the one who pulled away. You always do this. You _always_ do this!"

Their eyes locked and stayed locked as Jack's fingers caught in the collar of Mark's t-shirt, pulling it to the side roughly. He kept his eyes on Mark's to the last second as he bent in closer, closer, his lips fastening over Mark's collarbone.

Mark groaned.

Jack sucked a little harder, a growl slipping from his lips as he was pushed away roughly.

"Don't." Mark's voice was steely.

"You and your fuckin' propriety!"

"Me and my fucking _girlfriend_ who would end us both." Mark snapped back.

Jack stared him down for a treacle-slow moment, and Mark could see the temptation in his eyes, the urge to _bite_, to leave Mark to the explaining and the awkward conversations, and some part of his brain willed him to act on it, but instead Jack broke the stretching moment by snapping both hands out, pinching and twisting Mark's nipples as hard as he could.

Mark's knees buckled instantly, the only thing keeping him upright Jack's weight, pushing him into the wall. His yell vibrated deep in Jack's gut.

"Yeah." Jack's eyes were sharp, bright, locked on Mark's, and Mark couldn't pull his away.

"Yeah, I know you." Eyes still locked, he slipped his hands up under Mark's t-shirt, scratching down both his sides. Mark gasped, his hands going to Jack's hips, clutching desperately. He pulled Jack in closer, watching his eyes darken as they pressed against each other.

"I know you." Jack whispered it against Mark's ear, and he shivered against him. "I know what you want right now, and I know what you don't want to hear."

A cold shiver settled in him, and he met Jack's eyes again, a complicated swirl in them. Almost without him realising, his hand found Jack's cheek, resting, just lightly, and it was Jack's turn to say 'don't', in a soft voice Mark hated.

Mark kissed him.

Jack was still against him for a long moment, then his eyes slid shut and for a moment, for just a few heartbeats, the kiss was every bit like Jack's voice had been. Soft. Sort of sad.

Then Jack turned his head, his eyes opened and the kiss became a fierce thing that pulled a whine from the back of Mark's throat. It turned to a hiss as Jack's hand landed in his hair, twisting and pulling sharply.

"Want me to slap you again?"

Mark shook his head, groaning as Jack shifted his hips, pressing their crotches together.

"Sure? I'll do it as many times as you like."

There was something behind that, and Mark bucked his hips, trying to knock it out of Jack's voice, relishing in the rough groan he got instead. They ground against each other, the pace and force ramping up with each twist of hips until they were panting, until Jack's hand slipped between them and he felt the pressure over his crotch ease slightly as his zipper came down.

A few seconds later there was an answering noise followed by the rough sound of denim as Jack shoved his own jeans down slightly and then… Jack was reaching for him, squeezing hard enough to make him gasp and buck, and then they were pressed together once more, no cloth between them.

Mark's eyes followed the lines of Jack's body as he moved, but they kept coming back to his face. There was no flash of that brilliant smile, no mirth in his eyes. No sign of the cocky, goofy Jack he… _he_… he'd seen outside on the livestream. It made something too much like guilt curl in him and he pressed another kiss to Jack's lips, softer this time, too much in it, too much, and Jack went wide-eyed but pulled back, shaking his head.

"Don't put me through that again."

Their eyes met and Mark's whole body shuddered. Jack kissed _him_, fierce and sharp and messy. 

He tried not to think about how they were clinging together as they rutted, arms tight around each other - he couldn't say who was holding tighter, him or Jack - moving in waves against each other, breathing in each others' air, meeting in clashing, sparking kiss after clashing, sparking kiss.

"Maybe I _should_ say it." Jack's voice was still low against his ear, but the harshness was gone. He sounded… he sounded like he had when he'd said 'don't'. "Since you're such a masochist, that would really work for you, right?"

Mark screwed his eyes shut.

"Maybe I _should_ say it." Jack viciously twisted Mark's nipple once more as he spoke, even as his soft voice hitched and faded, and Mark came with tears stinging his eyes.

There was something Mark couldn't name in Jack's eyes, even as his lips twisted into an almost surprised 'O' and his hips gave two short, brutal thrusts and he was coming too, his head bowed to rest on Mark's shoulder.

They were gross against each other, covered in each other's come, and if they didn't move _now_ they'd have a hell of a lot more than cleanup to deal with, but Jack's head didn't lift, his shoulders heaving with his breaths. Just for a second, Mark's hand dipped into Jack's hair. He didn't grab, or pull.

"Maybe _I'm_ the fuckin' masochist." Jack's voice was rough and muffled by Mark's t-shirt. He knew he was supposed to pretend he hadn't heard, so he did.


End file.
